How Do You Spell Hate?

P-A-R-E-N-T-S.

Adorable, Cute.. Same Thing

Warning- Explicit Content :)

So I met another online friend. And I didn't think it was going to lead to anything, but he was fun to talk to. We started talking about more sexual things (as always is the case when I talk to new guys.. it just happens) and he started saying how he's so selfless, and would rather make someone else smile then receive personal gain. This was sexual because it was in relation to getting head vs. being eaten out. He was saying he'd love to go down on a girl even if she didn't want to blow him afterwards.

Anyways, I have to be quick, I'm exhausted.. it's already 4 am. So yeah, I mentioned my nude pictures, he was interested and sounded really excited, so I sent them, and for the first time in a long time, I felt pretty. He was so enthusiastic about how lucky he was to be getting the pictures, and how the world deserved to see them, but not the whole world, just him. Yeah, I know.. horny guy says things to make him continue to receive this type of thing, but even still, even knowing that, the things he said just made me feel... pretty. Theres no other word for it. I just felt really good about my body for the first time. It wasn't even that he was being sweet and cute about it. The things he said felt raw and honest. "You're tits are fantastic", "You're body is sexy, you are gorgeous" etc. I don't know how else to say this.
I. Felt. Good.

Dear Diary, Sorry To Bother You Again

But I feel lonely, and it's like no one notices, or cares.

Oh my goodness. Read that line, that first line, once more. Was it not just a little while ago I had posted "I am so tired of her self-loathing bullshit"? Can you spell HYPOCRITE? I irk myself sometimes, I can be so ridiculous. I don't know if it's really self loathing right now, but whatever it is, I'm depressed. I also have a SHITLOAD of work to do, and that's part of why I'm writing right now: I don't feel like doing work, I'd much rather waste time here. Not that I haven't already wasted time all day, getting next to no work done. Jeez I can be stupid.

Despite my rant, I actually do feel really lonely. Remember a while ago, I mentioned something about a guy, a close guy friend, who was into me, but who I wasn't into in return? The one I went to prom with. Yeah, him. Well, me and him have (*had) been friends for a little while. We'd talk all the time, and tell each other things (well, I wouldn't tell him things about the guys in my life... I felt like that would be mean seeing as he had a crush on me and I kinda turned him down). One of the things we tended to talk about was my lack of self confidence. He'd say how I should change how I feel about myself, be more confident etc. Thing is, I like being bitchy to myself. Calling myself a loser, or fat or whatever else I say to myself. Why? Because it's safe, it's something I'm used to and something that I can depend on. It's like my reassurance "No, don't worry, you're still a loser, you're still huge etc." So yeah, I was used to this and didn't like that he was trying to change this about me. So when we would talk about it, I would agree with him just to shut him up. I told him this one time, and he got really "hurt" as he put it. Why this hurt him, I do not know. Something about me not caring about what he has to say and him wasting his time. After I "hurt" him, he distanced himself from me, and pretty much stopped being my friend. I confronted him about this today, and found all of this out. I honestly started crying while we were talking about all of this. I don't quite remember when I started crying, I think it was around when he said he "didn't know how to be my friend anymore".

I don't know whats going to happen with us now, his computer died halfway through our conversation and he didn't come back online, so I suppose we'll continue the conversation another time.

Other then that, the weekend was a bit of a bore.. some fun on friday, I went paintballing for the first time ever. Lots of fun there, and lots of cute guys too :P (I was the only girl there). The referee started hitting on me, offered me some weed and we chatted a bit. Unfortunately, I had to leave before he got his break, so no weed. But it was still cool, cause I had gone for a friend's birthday, and a couple of us had to bus back to his place. On the subway we bought Cinnabuns (which are ORGASMIC) and accidentally took the wrong bus. Finally got to his place, where he snuck us a couple beers, and we grilled some hamburgers and chicken. I got really tipsy/hyper and started yelling and being very loud. Everyone was feeling really energetic so we ran out to the park at around 10 pm and started acting like crazy people (i.e., lots of screaming and laughing). Missed another party on saturday because my mom wanted me to go to her works' Christmas party (which was RIDICULOUSLY boring).
Lastly, my best friend seems to be depressed. She addressed me in her blog, knowing I read it almost regularly, and told me not to bother calling. I don't know what's going on with her, and I don't know how to help her. Part of me thinks she's making all of it up to have some extra "excitement" in her life, but the other part of me insists she's being sincere. I suppose I'll talk to her on monday, I just don't know what I'm expected to say.

I lied, theres one more thing, then I'll go start my homework. I'm in grade 12. This means that university is a big stress right now, meaning I have to be really careful about my studies and work hard for good marks. Unfortunatley, I suck at working hard, and love to procrastinate. This is a bit of a problem. I sent my OUAC application in about a week ago, and I've been freaking out ever since that I won't get accepted by any of the seven schools I'm applying for. Og my gosh, I'm so nervous. It's.. ACH.

Notes Found On Loose Papers

Watching the goldfish swim around in their fishbowl,
constantly running into the glass walls surrounding them.
I feel their pain as I too have stumbled into invisible
boundaries countless times before.
Looking for an escape. I think to myself, I'm not much better off.
At least the two fish have each other.
I sometimes feel like I have no one at all.



"Some birds aren't meant to be caged.
Their feathers are just too bright."

I Don't Quite Know How To Say How I Feel

I'm tired of yelling at people. More specifically, I'm tired of hearing people yell at each other. I'm dealing with a shitload of stress right now because my swim coach doesn't like my attitude, nor does he like the rest of the team. Because I'm the loudest, and most assertive swimmer in my group, he tends to blame me for the rebellion he sees in the swimmers. I used to yell at him for giving us shit fro our swimming, and for being a bad coach. But lately, I've started to see where he's coming from, and I just want to bitch at my fellow swimmers for being such dicks to him.

Not only do I see the injustice in their treatment towards him, I also see that my sister is a bitch. I can't stand her. She's a disgusting person, and tends to have little care for those around her. Now, knowing this about her, how does she have friends? How do people feel that she could fill a position of authority? Not exactly such a position, no ones offered her any authority, but people do tend to look up to her, and see her as a good person to know. I have no idea why. She's currently stomping around the house, bitching about how her piano teacher is "ruining her life". I'm not exaggerating.
I can't stand her.
But I do need her. So no matter how much I don't like her, I need to put up with her. She knows too much about me for me to lash out at her and risk secrets being spilled in every which direction.

I Love You Too

Four words that could quite possibly brighten either parent's day.
If I had the strength to say them out loud. I used to. I would tell them I love them all the time. But not anymore. I can't remember the last time I let the words slip out of my mouth.
Love.
An interesting word it is. Feared and respected by so many. Does anyone know what it really means? What love truly is? What it means to love somebody? I'm sure some poor fool out there has deluded himself into believing, whole heartedly, that he knows what love is. And, to be honest, I suppose that if someone truly believes they know what love is, then chances are they DO know what it is. I don't pretend for a second to count myself a fool.

I don't know how to explain, in a way for you to understand how much my heart hurts when I see my parents' faces fall. "I love you" they say, almost breathlessly, wondering, if maybe I'll break this time, if maybe this time I'll return their affections. I seldom do. Silence is all that acknowledges them. Nothing more. It shouldn't be so difficult for me to say such simple words. Linguistically, they are inferior to the majority of the English language. The words I, Love, and You, are simple words, with little meaning on their own. There is no magnificance in the grammar of the phrase. Nothing.

Then why do I have such trouble saying it out loud?

Define Stress

According to my psych class, I'm under way too much stress, and should be dying now. Well, not quite dying, but a lot less... comfortable. I suppose I am under stress, but I didn't think it was so bad as all that. Maybe I'm just used to it?
What real stress would a teenager actually be under? I mean, sure, there's highschool, and your workload, not to mention your job, and I suppose parents would add to the stress. Then there would be your extra-curriculars, like sports or whatever, and of course, all the teenage drama that is associated with teenage life.

I guess when you list it like that, it does add up to a considerable sum. Even still, is my stress level so high that I shouldn't be getting any sleep? Or that I should be falling asleep during my classes? I suppose I'm just rambling now, I don't really remember where I was going with this. Point is, I think I'm stressed, and I need to figure out how to minimize my stress level, if that's possible, before I break.

On a happier note, I got my cartilage pierced on saturday. That was kinda exciting.

Ughh, screw happiness. I know that somethings wrong with me. I started organizing my desk today. I never do that. Unless I've got something on my mind. Which I don't know if I did or not. I was just... I don't know how to explain it. I just know that something's bothering me. I need to figure out what it is now.

The Edible Woman

I think I've finally lost it.
Completely.
No more joking about my lack of sanity. I mean, just look back and read the post I wrote about being in love with my ex. I don't know what I was thinking.
Wait, yes I do. It's written down, on this blog. Word for word the thoughts that were running through my head as my fingers struck the keyboard. I think what it is, is that I'm in love with the idea of someone just being with me, and upon remembering the completely innocent, beautiful thing we had had; I must've fallen in love with what I remembered of our relationship.

I Will Not Bow, I Will Not Break

Something I forgot to write a while ago, or maybe just couldn't write, is a conversation I had with my mom. I forget what the situation was, why we were mad at each other, but I couldn't stand her. I didn't want to be near her. My dad begged me to go out for lunch with her. I said no. His voice cracked, through the phone, and I heard the tears choking him. I broke. I agreed to go to lunch with her, and called her to pick me up from school. As we were on our way to Timmies, she looked at me, and tried to start lecturing me. I told her I didn't want to hear it. I wouldn't let her talk, and instead blasted angry music through my headphones. When we got there, and ordered, and were seated across from each other, she started talking again. It somehow lead to her mentioning being in an abortion centre once. I was so mad at her, it didn't click for me that she was there for herself. Suddenly, her eyes were red, and she was shaking. Staring off into a time I couldn't see, she was no longer with me. "Mom?"
Nothing.
I held her, hugged her, let her cry. When she was done, she shakily explained to me, I was supposed to have another sibling. After I was born, they had my sister, and she had a heart condition. According to my mom, she couldn't risk that again, so the third time she got pregnant, she decided that the only option was to abort it.
This still haunts her, to this day, and I don't know why I needed to write it here, now, a month or so later. I never knew this about my mom, it never occured to me that she may have been through hardships in her lifetime.

Cause All I Do Is Think Of You

I almost started crying today.
On my walk home.
I had seen him in the hallway, at school. And the first time, he didn't notice me, and I had to see him give some girl a hug as I walked by. The second time he waved at me. A half-hearted wave.
That's all I get after pouring my heart out to him, and letting him force me into cybering again with him. After making the first move, telling him I liked him and sometimes wish we were dating, I figured he'd make the next move. After we started talking for a couple days, he disappeared off the Internet. I still saw him at school, but that was it, and even then it was just a glance in passing. No more online chats. I figured he was busy. But there was action on his facebook, so that didn't make sense.
When I saw him today, and he waved, I thought, finally. But no. Nothing.
Then when I was walking home, right after I saw him, my phone rang. First thought that came to my mind "It's him." No, of course it's not. Just my dad. Offering me a ride home.

I hate that I'm writing this here. Here where I try my hardest to have semi deep thoughts. Things with real substance. Instead I'm bitching about my stupid crush and how he's not into me.

But it's more then that. He's not just a stupid crush. I think I might actually be in love with him. I dated him long ago, all the way back in elementary school. When we were both little and innocent, and our idea of a good time was sitting outside, me in his arms, reading a book together.
I was a faster reader then him, and he would purposely only skim the whole page each time just so he could keep up with me and not make me wait for him. He was that considerate. And we used to pass notes to each other. Every night, we'd write to each other, a love letter of sorts, and the next day we would trade. I'd give him his, and he'd my mine. But then he dumped me, on the last day of school. Telling me that my parents were too strict and he couldn't handle it. And I was hurt. And I cried. And the next day he was dating someone else. At that time, I didn't know about my need to "empty my head" by writing things down, so I unleashed all my hurt at him in e-mails. Lots of them. And I'd press send each time. Then I tore up every single letter he'd ever written to me. My train of thought at that time being "Why keep a bunch of lies?". I tried to break the necklace he bought me. But I couldn't bring myself to do it, or throw it out even. So I gave it to my best friend of the time, and asked her to keep it. I've lost touch with that friend, so I'm never going to get that necklace back. She probably threw it out the minute she got home anyways, it wasn't a particularly special necklace. But it meant a lot to me.

When me and him started talking again, after I made my confession about liking him and wanting to date him, we started talking about "The good old times". He told me that he still had all the notes I'd written to him. Every single one of them. And that made me cry too.

I'm so tired of her self-loathing bullshit.

Textbook Philosophy

Trading blood for ink,
Into torture I will sink...
Beneath the machine again.

I found this in my textbook, a messy scrawl, far more intersting than the passage beneath it about Involuntary Childlessness.
For a moment, I felt like someone in the world, someone who went to my school, was a real person.
A real person who would probably understand how I feel.

Attempted vs. Completed

I think I want to add myself to the statistics relating to "attempted suicide". I really do want to commit. But I don't think it's because I want to die. I don't think I'm ready to die just yet, not that I would complain if my attempt actually went through and became completed. I just want to fix everything. I feel like, if they see what all their fighting, and stupidity is doing, or has almost done, they might try to make everything better.
Maybe if I tried to kill myself, they'd notice me more. Care about me more. Maybe she would realize that her strict, overprotective rules are the reason we favour him. And she might figure out that parenting isn't all about yelling at your kids, but about loving them too. Maybe she'll suddenly see that she might've lost me permanently, and that might make her appreciate everything more. Or maybe it will actually work and I might actually die, and then maybe everything will just be easier for everyone.

He wants to take us to a family psychologist. As he puts it, "Our family is sick, we need help." I don't want to talk to a psychologist again. Not after last time. Last time was horrible. Going again will just remind everyone about what happened then. I don't know if that's the only reason I don't want to go though. Maybe I'm just afraid that the shrink will talk to me and figure out that I am the problem, that it's my fault our family is in pieces. Or if it isn't that, maybe he'll just see that theres something wrong with me period. That I may not be entirely to blame for the family situation, but that I am sick nonetheless, and that I need to be locked up in an asylum.
In the looney bin.
The crazy ward.

Lonely in A Crowded Room

I stole the title from someone else's blog, but I just related to it alot, and wanted to remember it.

I'm kind of frustrated with myself right now. I'm such a fake person. Looking at all my "writing", I see that I've hardly ever written anything deep, or serious. I've stopped writing meaningful things, or poetry, or anything. It's all become recounts of the things I do. I don't mind the recounts, I like reading over them later; it makes me feel like my life is almost interesting.(Speaking of writing my recounts, I need to write about friday night, but I'm not in the mood to think about it right at this moment.) But this doesn't mean I should completely stop writing about things that matter.
Is my life, or the life around me, solely based on partying and going out?

Just Another Day In The Life Of

I really need to stop putting myself into these situations. It's gonna get me somewhere I most likely shouldn't go.
Though I know this, I can't seem to avoid doing stupid, careless things, like getting into a stranger's car and having a smoke with him.

I was dropped off at driving school the other day, but class was cancelled so I had to wait an hour for my dad to come back from the airport to pick me up (he was picking up my mom who had gone away on a business trip). As I was waiting, I decided to have a smoke. Just as I finished, this guy in a silver car drove by and asked me if I had a smoke. Feeling generous, I gave him one, and asked if he'd like to sit with me. He laughed and offered for me to get in the car instead, and that we could sit in there in the parking lot. Stupidly, I did. He laughed at me, and told me it was stupid to get into a stranger's car, but assured me that he wasn't a "crazy". We sat around, talking and such, then he offered me weed etc etc. As I was leaving, he asked for my number, and, thinking that I would only ever call him if I wanted weed, I gave him mine and got his. During our time in the car, talking, he asked about my sexual experiences and what I'd done. I had seen no harm in sharing, so I did.

Later that night, he called, to talk, and started implying how he'd like to see me some time, to fool around, and, more specifically, to have sex. I am not interested. I really want to tell him no, to tell him to stop, but I've already started flirting with him, and acting like my retarded, slutty self. It doesn't matter though. I'm going to turn him down, or just continue telling him I can't that night, or something. I just don't know how I get myself into these situations, or why.

On another note, I've started looking into universities a bit more. I went to see McMaster U a couple weeks ago (unfortunately, we kinda screwed that up and didn't register properly so I had to call up one of my friends that goes to the school and asked him to give us a tour of the place), and today I went to see U of Guelph. Out of the two so far, I like McMaster better.. it's prettier :P.

I Feel So Untouched

Oh my goshh.
Weirdest fucking dream, ever.

No, that's a lie.. I've had weirder, but this one was ridiculously vivid, and I actually remember almost all of it.

So basically, in my dream, my best friend decided to marry my cousin, and they were all in love and happy (that in itself is fucking trippy.. my best friend is a skinny little seventeen year old ginger kid, and my cousin is a twenty something fat, hairy Persian guy, but aside from the appearance thing, their personalities are polar opposites as well. Safe to say, it was a scary thought). Anyways, they decided to wed, and it was a huge wedding ceremony, with loads of people, and big fancy dresses being sold in the main foyer (don't ask.. I didn't understand any of it either). My best friend's dress got ruined before the ceremony, so we were looking around the vendors trying to find her something for the wedding. We found the perfect dress, but the guy selling it was this sketchy mobster. I don't actually remember what happened directly after that, but I do remember ending up outside of the wedding place, holding a Starbucks latte. Suddenly there are these guys with guns, and I start crying, and they take my latte and I'm threatened, and I can't get into the wedding, and I start bitching at the head gunman and he sees that the wedding is all about love, and lets his wedding guest hostages free to go back to the wedding, and makes out with me outside of the building.

The End.


Bahahahahaha, that was alot funnier then I thought it was, I had just remembered it to be really creepy and weird. Actually, I think it ended with my best friend and my cousin driving off into the sunset.. or breaking up. But I can't remember, I was to engrossed in my make out session with sexy gunman :).

By the way, the title of this post has NOTHING to do with this dream.. it's just a song I'm currently addicted to. You should look it up.

Untouched
By: The Veronicas

Hate Me Today

Hate me tomorrow.
Hate me for all the things, I never did, to you.

Is it just me, or can almost anyone really relate to that song? Not only do I feel like everyone hates me, I also feel like I almost don't deserve it.
Yeah, I know I'm not the greatest person in the world, I know I'm not the nicest, or the kindest, or the most generous. That doesn't make me mean, or bitter, or a bad person. I mean, I'm not mean to people, I can be caring, I can be loving. So sometimes I'm not very good at showing it, or letting people know.

Despite how I say I feel, I know it's not everyone that hates me. Just a select few.
I hope.

I'm really hurting right now, I don't like it.

And to make matters worse, theres a slight possibility I might be pregnant, but I don't want to think about it, not yet anyways, because I'm probably not. I have to stop thinking I'm pregnant after each time I have sex. Jeez.

I Can't Escape This Hell

Uhm, I felt it was necessary to start a new post to share the rest of my news. It didn't really fit in with my hurt, broken speech thingy.

I finally told my best friend that I smoke, and she was totally ok with it. No spazzing whatsoever. This made me very happy. Also, the new guy that offered/suggested sleeping around is no more.. I think I've decided I'm not interested in fucking around with the "popular/jackass" type. Besides, I think he's all talk.

What else??
Oh, yeah, I partook in a threesome. With my best friend, and her boyfriend. At 4:00 a.m, in her bed. He was incredible, I think that's the best I will ever be fucked. However, there is chance that I may become pregnant from it.. they don't use protection.. and we didn't seem to think it was necessary that night either. Yes, I know.. stupid. I think I enjoyed the afterwards almost more. Well, not the direct afterwards. Haha, yeah, at about 5:30 a.m, I went out for a smoke, and let them have a little bit of couple time. So I went outside in nothing but my friends' sweater. Let me tell you, it's fucking cold in Canada. So that was also stupid. But yeah, I came back in, and they were done, and she was falling asleep. No one felt the need to put their clothes back on, so we were all lying naked in the bed. Me and him couldn't sleep, so we turned on the T.V, and he cuddled up close behind me, with his arm under my head, and the other arm draped over my stomach. It was pleasant, and it didn't feel lovey or anything.. just, comfortable.

It Feels Like My Heart Is Breaking

Again.

I can't believe I'm going through the exact same thing again. I can't believe I'm being accused of the fucking EXACT SAME THING.
Does that mean there is truth behind what they say? Do I really not try? Do I really not care? What's wrong with me? Why do I seem incapable of loving? Why am I so hardened?
And if I am hardened, why do I hurt so much right now?

Why are tears rolling down my cheeks if I can't feel?
Why do I know that I'm hurting when I'm accused of being emotionless?

I wish I didn't feel. I wish I didn't know how to cry, or how to love. Because I do, I do love. Maybe I just love the wrong people, or the right people for the wrong reasons. I don't know. I do know that I seem to be asking for someone to care about me, for a while now, and that each time I think that my prayers have been answered, I seem to be severely mistaken. I do know that I'd much rather just have someone hold me, and be with me instead of having sex, or drinknig or smoking or whatever.
I just want someone to understand me, to accept me, and to love me, as me.

But that probably doesn't exist. Not for me anyways. That sort of beautiful thing is for everyone else.
Everyone but me.

Sex, Drugs and Rock & Roll

Wow, I suck at not writing in this thing. Haha, it seems I couldn't last for more than a couple months. Granted, I have some very epic news, so I guess that's why I broke my oath to stop writing. Besides, it wasn't so much an oath as it was a... promise?

Anywho, the reason I broke my "oath", I'm no longer a virgin. I lost it yesterday, at school, in the girl's bathroom, to a guy I don't really know. Yeah, "slut", "whore" etc. Thanks, I've already been berated by this one guy I for some reason tend to trust with almost everything. It was pretty bad, I thought I would ease into the topic jokingly, and it was going pretty well, until I told him what happened. He went all out on me. Bitching at me, telling me how much his respect for me just diminished, and how he thought I was full of bullshit. I wanted to cry. It's not like I don't realize I did something wrong, but that's not the point. I mean, it's not like it's the end of the world because I had sex. Right? Later that night, I went out with my friend, the one I stayed with when I ran away. We went to this HIV fundraiser dinner thing, but left early for this concert we wanted to go to at this go-carting place. It was pretty awesome, I love her friends, despite the fact that they're about 6 years older then me. They all seem to be pretty ok with me. As a matter of fact, I'm practically positive one of them was hitting on me. Unfortunately, I had to leave early, before her friends' band got a chance to perform. Kinda sucked, but it's alright, cause I still had a blast.

Uhmmm, what else??

Right, I'm going on a date in an hour, with a guy I met at another concert. He kinda saved my life, and then we made out, so we exchanged numbers and have been talking for about a month. He's really sweet, but also really.. accommodating. I guess that's not a bad thing, it's just, he always agrees with me. It bugs me cause I feel like he's just being fake to impress me.
Lastly, I think, is that I've started smoking. My reason is "I spent all of last year hanging out with smokers, so it's kinda rubbed off on me, and I've been craving it lately because of that." Thing is, I'm not really telling anyone, other then the people I ask for smokes.

Ooh, also (so I was wrong, that wasn't the last thing), I've had my wisdom teeth pulled out. I wanted to get my tongue pierced while my mouth was still numb from the surgery, but my dad just glared at me when I suggested it. ANDD, I've decided I want to get a tattoo. Or more then one. But I know what I want. I'm thinking a dandelion, with the seeds blowing away, on my wrist. A dove on my shoulder, and/or a cherry tree up the side of my ribs.

This time, I promise, it's the last thing. In my psychology class, a couple days ago, we had to write a paper, "Who Am I?". I'm telling you this because I just realized, or have always known and just rerealized, that it's not just me who doesn't know who I am. The guy who was yelling at me about my, mistake, also started yelling at me about my smoking. He said that I was pretending to be something I'm not. So I asked him who he thought I was, because, clearly, I had no idea. He just brushed it off with a "I dunno, that's you're problem". I don't know if that means he doesn't know who I am or if he just doesn't care. In relation to my smoking thing, I've gotten really bad about it. I couldn't find someone with a smoke the other day, so I went to the forest with just my lighter and started looking around on the ground for someone's leftover butt. I found one that was in decent condition and I got a couple drags out of it, but just the fact that I was scrounging around in the dirt for a smoke is really pathetic. I'm pretty disgusted by myself. It's alright though, I'm determined to buy a pack of smokes soon. I just need to find the courage to ask around at the gas station for someone to buy them for me. Or wait for my other friend to bring her ID to school one day so she can buy me some.